Yes, Yannick thought, look at me. Standing in a draughty room he’d never wanted to be in in the first place. He wasn’t like Yosef. Or his father, or indeed, the other two men in the room watching. Waiting.
But his life had imploded in such spectacular style, he hadn’t seen it coming until it was too late.
The gun he clutched to the side of his leg was as foreign as the concept of the consequences he was about to mete out. The steel was too heavy for his hand, his fingers trembling as the magnitude of the situation, of what he’d been told to do, sank in.
“Why?” was all Yannick could think to ask. The million other questions that had kept him awake for the past two weeks didn’t seem to matter anymore.
“Why not?” Yosef snapped, glancing to his father, before rolling on the balls of his feet and capturing Yannick in his gaze again.
Yannick simply didn’t understand how they’d ended up where they were. This wasn’t his life - he didn’t want it.
He’d never wanted it.
“She’s a real good fuck, by the way.” And that was all it took. Yannick’s fingers no longer shook when he pointed the gun squarely at his brother’s chest and took two steps closer to the man who had betrayed the meaning of the word family. “Don’t miss, mladshiy brat.” Little brother. Yosef’s words were a whisper on his lips, the Russian, rusty.
Yannick didn’t intend to, even though he understood with absolute clarity this would take his soul and bend it into an ugly thing he couldn’t ever forget. His life would never be the same, and he supposed it was always meant to be. He was a pawn in the lives of the surrounding men. Their father had called checkmate, and Yosef had lost. Yannick had lost.
A late summer storm raged outside, the crack of thunder almost as loud as the gun discharging, nowhere near as deafening as Yannick’s heart splitting in two.
Yes, Yannick thought, look at me.
He was nothing like Yosef, or his father, or the other men now standing with their heads bowed. He was a man who would pay the price for the ultimate betrayal - taking the life of a man he loved.
His heart raged while the storm settled and he swung on his feet, the gun clattering to the floor. Yannick, unable to comprehend the action he’d taken, looked his father square in the eye as he lifted his head. He’d unwillingly become this man in a single moment not of his doing, he was his father’s son after all, and they shared nothing but hatred now. He would forget his love, his hopes and his dreams, and would walk the path set before him. There was no other choice.
He’d serve his time, he deserved to.
Irina Ischmova
My husband liked pretty things. Dirty things. Lost causes. Expendable women he would bend to his will until he’d taken what he wanted. Then he’d throw them away without a second thought. His latest squeeze was no exception. Her mouth had been a temptation he couldn’t refuse but he’d ignored one important thing - she knew how to play the game too. Not until after she’d stolen his money - our money - had it clicked into place.
Now he was on the warpath and hungry for the blood he should have spilled with the prize I’d gifted him a few days ago. Kayleigh was going to be one sorry bitch when Yannick caught up to her, and with her days numbered, I was eager to get hold of her when Yannick brought her to me kicking and screaming. Stealing from Yannick was stealing from me, my blade had punished for far less.
Leaning back in the creaky leather chair, I stared out of the office window, scanning the back fence of our garden. A garden that would never see children, or host a summer barbeque, or lend itself to a warm summer evening for star crossed lovers to share. Peaceful is what it was, a welcome reprieve from the hellacious rabble Yannick and his men had brought in with their indignant disgust at being blindsided. Rowdy without an excuse, Yannick and his four henchmen were ten times worse when they’d been wronged, and the din often made my head ache. I was glad they’d finally left me to my own devices.
Welcome to my life, one that would cease to exist the minute Yannick was brave enough to step out from behind the contract he’d been made to sign fifteen years ago. Oh, it was coming, and I had decisions to make because for me, Yannick turning his back was simply not an option. If I lost him, I’d lose his men too and the control he’d readily handed over. His men were loyal to him, in turn loyal to me, yet I was under no illusions they were faithful for anything but my husband’s sake.
Andrey made it no secret he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me for any length of time, and his brother, Sandir, was only marginally tolerable toward me. Greg steered clear, which I understood, coming on to him had not been one of my finer moments. And Tayte? Well… who knew? The man blew so hot and cold, I couldn’t ever get a read on where I fell on the loathing scale for him. My skin was thick, I didn’t particularly care whether they liked me or not, it only mattered that I had them in the same way Yannick did. To lose them would be a catastrophe.
Yannick may have been the king to my queen, but he was a reluctant one, and he would take his pawns with him when he left.
“Neat trick you pulled there.”
Having learned to temper my reactions around these men, when Tayte
